


of this much i am certain

by onetiredboy



Series: Hanahaki AU [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hanahaki AU Epilogue, Other, don't get used to it, i.e., the only stand alone E rated thing I will ever post on this account
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetiredboy/pseuds/onetiredboy
Summary: A stand-alone epilogue to the hanahaki au [E]
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: Hanahaki AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143794
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	of this much i am certain

**Author's Note:**

> did you know this series was named after this chorus: 
> 
> there must be more than blood  
> that holds us together  
> there must be more than wind  
> that takes us away  
> there must be more than tears  
> when they pull back the curtain  
> of this much i am certain
> 
> now you do.
> 
> PLEASE MIND THE RATING ON THIS FIC. YES. ITS EXPLICIT. OOPS. IDK HOW THIS HAPPENED. AMY MADE ME DO IT (amy didnt make me do it im just-- oh look its peter nureyev in the ruby 7 over there! [runs for the hills])

When Nureyev had had all those thoughts about the future being  _ amazing,  _ he supposes he hadn’t quite thought ahead that far, or taken any of Buddy or Vespa’s threats into consideration.

That being said, life in the Carte Blanche brig may not be  _ amazing _ , but it’s certainly better than life at Dark Matters. 

He is brought meals after everybody else eats, and escorted to the bathroom when he needs it. When he asks, he is told Buddy is still deliberating his future. Buddy, he has a feeling, is drawing out his so-called sentence simply because it amuses her to do so.

The room itself consists only of a table with chairs and a mattress on the floor, but he has access to his comms, so he’s not  _ entirely  _ bored. That being said, the other crew members are on strict instructions not to contact or entertain him, so all he has are his streams and the e-books Rita provided to him some time ago. 

But instructions are made to not be followed, and there’s one particular rule-breaker who has made a habit out of violating the terms of Nureyev’s sentence. 

He’s become used to listening out for the sound of somebody keying in a code to his door late at night. Every time Vespa gets wind of what goes on down here, she changes it, but Nureyev has a feeling a particular hacker has a vested interest in making sure the new code gets surreptitiously leaked into the comms messages of a particular crew member every time it does. 

The door slides open and in slips Juno, dressed in a simple shirt and sweatpants. Nureyev leans back against the chair he’s sitting in and flutters his eyelids, “Oh,  _ warden,”  _ he drawls, “I’ve been awfully good all this time. Are you here to relinquish my sentence? Or perhaps— to enact punishment for my crimes?”

Juno’s face screws up, “Stop,’ he groans. “I hate it when you play a role.”

“Oh, but warden,” Nureyev leans forward as Juno walks towards him, “I’m not playing. I’ve reflected on my life decisions, and I’m a changed man— or at least, I feel I could be, if only someone would… show me how to behave?”

“Oh God,” Juno laughs, as he sinks into Nureyev’s lap. “I shouldn’t even kiss you. You don’t deserve to be rewarded for pulling this goddamn bullshit.”

“Mmm,” Nureyev smiles and leans back again, “Don’t, then. Nobody’s going to force you to.”

Juno glares at him for a long, heavy moment. Then his resolve breaks, and he rolls his eye. “I hate you,” he mumbles, and drags Nureyev into a kiss. 

Life in the brig is worth it a hundred times over for this. Juno’s arms wrap around Nureyev’s neck and Nureyev squeezes at Juno’s waist. He makes a little sound and hitches a little closer to Nureyev’s body, and Nureyev  _ feels  _ it ripple through him like a wave of warm water.

Wringing sounds out of Juno Steel is quickly becoming a favourite past time of Nureyev’s. Each little squeak, moan or whine is like a prize — one that he feels in his gut— and… in other places too. And it is exquisitely easy. Nureyev drags his teeth over Juno’s bottom lip and Juno shudders against Nureyev’s body with a throaty noise. He slips his tongue past Juno’s lips and Juno clings tighter to him, making a short, high-pitched, sharp sound. Nureyev is careful to memorise each one — and they tend to get plenty of replay, once Juno has left for the night and Nureyev is alone with his thoughts and his bed and his hand… 

Nureyev is drawn out of his fictional fantasy by the very real sensation of Juno rolling his hips against Nureyev’s. Nureyev gasps, suddenly acutely aware of the feelings Juno can stoke inside of him — and vice versa. 

“Hey,” Juno says into Nureyev’s ear. “That night we slept together, a while back…”

Nureyev tries desperately not to think too hard about it — he doesn’t want to kill the mood, “Yes?”

“You never ended up… you know. Coming. Did you?” 

“I… don’t think so, no,” Nureyev says, and his voice only  _ just  _ shakes. 

“Mm,” he can hear the smile in Juno’s voice. “I should do something about that.”

“Now?” Nureyev asks.

“Why not?”

“Someone could walk in. You know Vespa’s started checking down here some nights to make sure you haven’t snuck in.”

“She’s caught us in compromising positions before,” Juno shrugs it off.

“There’s a difference between being caught kissing and being caught  _ in media res, _ ” Nureyev counters. 

“We’ll be able to hear the code being keyed in, we’ll have warning,” Juno says, his hands dusting just along the hem of Nureyev’s shirt. “Although, if it does make you uncomfortable—“

“No,” Nureyev cuts him off, and chooses to ignore the smirk Juno sends his way. “It… is almost a little… exhilarating, actually.”

“Oh?” Juno teases. He shifts back on Nureyev’s hips, and keeps him locked in eye contact as his hands start to undo the button of his pants. “You like that idea, Nureyev? It excites you a little, the thought we might fuck somewhere someone could see?”

“I—“ Nureyev flounders for words.

“You kinda want people to see how gone I am for you?” Juno presses further, and he leans forward to kiss Nureyev at the same time as he slips his hand down his pants.

Nureyev gasps into Juno’s mouth. The angle can’t be comfortable for Juno’s wrist, but it doesn’t stop him as he leans back, two of his fingers rubbing circles into Nureyev’s dick.

“Is that right?” Juno continues questioning, “You like the idea of fucking wherever we can ‘cause we can’t keep our hands off each other?” 

“You—“ Nureyev gasps again and tries to compose a sentence. Juno’s words have his head swimming in fog and half-formed fantasies, “When you put it like that, it’s not— an unpleasant thought.”

“Mm. I like it too. Like the idea of you taking me whenever you want like I goddamn belong to you,” Juno murmurs, and presses his mouth to Nureyev’s collarbone. 

Nureyev arches slightly while Juno leaves a bruise on his skin, and then shudders back into his seat. When Juno gets it in his mind to take him to pieces, evidently, he knows exactly which buttons to press. His fingers slip out of Nureyev’s pants, and he has only a second of clear-headedness before Juno slides out of the chair and onto his knees on the floor.

“Oh Juno,” Nureyev breathes.

“Yeah, baby?” Juno glances up with an absurdly self-satisfied look on his face. “This okay?”

Nureyev can’t help but laugh a little breathlessly at that, “More than.” 

“Good. Hips up,” Juno instructs, and leans forward to help pull Nureyev’s pants down to his knees. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Juno mutters, and leans forward to press his lips against Nureyev’s dick through his underwear. He licks a stripe through the cloth, and Nureyev screws his eyes shut as pleasure rockets up his core.

“Can I take these off?” Juno’s voice is lower, rougher, and his breath ghosts over Nureyev’s underwear.

“Yes,” he breathes.

Juno doesn’t though — not completely. Instead, he hooks his finger underneath the cloth and pulls it to one side. There’s not even time for Nureyev to register the thought before he leans forward and repeats the licking motion from before — now on bare skin.

Nureyev arches with a groan. He spreads his legs a little more, and tips his head back to the ceiling. Now that Juno’s started, he doesn’t stop. He takes his dick between his lips and sucks. Nureyev reaches down to fist his hand in Juno’s tight-cropped curls, and Juno moans delightedly. 

It’s been a long time since Nureyev has been laid properly — far too long, in his opinion. He uses that to excuse the way it takes barely three minutes before his thigh is trembling and he’s gasping for air. Juno backs off, switching to long, languid licks to keep Nureyev near the edge without quite tipping over. Nureyev is delirious with it, craving both the release that comes with orgasm and the sensation of it being teased out.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot,” Juno groans before placing his mouth on him again, and Nureyev laughs shakily. 

“Speak— for yourself,” he manages, “Oh Juno, pet. You’re doing so well.”

Juno runs his fingers up Nureyev’s thigh as acknowledgement, and then backs off again, “You ready to come?”

Nureyev only spares it a second of consideration. “Yes, love,” he breathes.

Juno kisses the inside of his thigh, and then leans back in to run his tongue from where Nureyev is making a mess of his underwear back up to the length of his dick. Nureyev lets out a shaky breath, and then clenches his fist in Juno’s hair when Juno takes his dick back between his lips.

The feeling swells in him faster than he expected, and he leans back in the chair, struggling to keep his eyes open to watch, “Oh, love,” he gasps, “Oh, Juno—Juno, that’s it, close, love, very close, I—“

Nureyev is interrupted when he comes, jolting forward a little in his seat and his mouth falling open. His eyes roll shut and his thighs squeeze against Juno’s sides. Juno keeps his mouth on him through it, as Nureyev shudders and throbs.

Finally he relaxes back into his seat, and Juno sits back on the floor. A glance down gives Nureyev a view of the shine to Juno’s lips just before he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks up. 

“God damn,” he breathes.

“Quite,” Nureyev replies, breathlessly. 

“That was… fuck,” Juno says.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Nureyev agrees.

They both laugh a little, then, and when Juno shifts, Nureyev can see the evidence of his needs yet to be met. “Would you like—“ he offers, and Juno shakes his head.

“I can take care of myself,” he says. “I was paying you back for last time, remember?”

“Are you sure?” Nureyev offers again.

“Yeah. I… kinda like making you come without expecting anything in return,” Juno admits. “It’s… feels good. I like making you feel good.”

“ _ Well _ , you certainly did that.”

Juno smiles. He stands up off the floor and slides back into Nureyev’s lap, kissing him long and sweet. “Now that I can exercise without risk of killing myself, though,” he murmurs when they part, “I have a whole list of things I wanna try with you.”

“Is that so?” Nureyev asks.

“You bet,” Juno kisses him again. And again. Nureyev leans into it, and all previous thought is wiped from his mind.

He sighs when they part, “Must you go?”

“I don’t think either of us wanna know what would happen if Vespa found us asleep together in here,” Juno replies. “Plus, I love you, but I am  _ not  _ sleeping on a mattress on the floor.”

Nureyev grins giddily, his brain having caught on one part of Juno’s sentence and tuned out the rest. “I love you, too,” he says.

Juno quirks a smile at him. “I know, babe.” 

After a good amount of more kisses, Juno gives Nureyev a hug goodnight and slips out of the room again. Nureyev gets changed into pyjamas and slips under the covers on his mattress. His mind is pleasantly hazed with thoughts of Juno, and he falls asleep thinking of how lucky he is that his life has turned out this way.

In the morning, he’s woken up by the sound of Vespa bringing him breakfast.

“Morning, thief,” she grunts, and then— as he sits up— she glances at him and stops still. He can’t quite figure out what it is she’s staring at until he remembers the night before — and the mark on his neck. 

“Goddamnit, Steel,” she hisses. “You’re supposed to be our prisoner!” 

“In his defence—“ Nureyev starts, and Vespa cuts him off before he can finish a joke about being thoroughly punished that probably would have landed poorly anyway.

“Don’t wanna hear it,” she says, and drops his tray of food on the table. “Seeya later, lover-boy.” 


End file.
